


Webcloak

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: Transformers Fairy Tale Retellings [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Crack, Fractured Fairy Tale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24203275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: Once upon a time lived Pharma, a mech of Vos who had three creations: Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Starscream. The old mech wanted to learn which of his creations loved him best.A fairy tale AU based onCap o'Rushes. Originally posted as part of AU Yeah AUgust 2018.
Relationships: Skywarp & Starscream & Thundercracker (Transformers), Starscream & Pharma, Starscream/Megatron
Series: Transformers Fairy Tale Retellings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1305272
Comments: 18
Kudos: 28





	Webcloak

**Author's Note:**

> Splitting this one out so I can add it to the Transformers Fairy Tale Retellings series, seeing as it was the first one I ever adapted.

Once upon a time lived Pharma, a mech of Vos who had three creations: Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Starscream. The old mech wanted to learn which of his creations loved him best.

“How much do you love me?” Pharma asked Thundercracker, the eldest.

“As much as I love destroying groundlings from the air.”

“Good!” Pharma turned to Skywarp, the middle creation. “How much do you love me?”

“As much as I love pranks. I got Screamer with a bucket of solvent on top of a door the other day!”

“That’s…good. Good.” Pharma turned to Starscream, the youngest. “How much do you love me?”

“That’s a stupid question!” scoffed Starscream. “Love isn’t something you can quantify! Don’t you remember _any_ of your scientific training?”

“Just answer the question,” Thundercracker sighed. “Otherwise we’ll be here all day.”

“Fine. Creator, I love you as much as energon goodies love gelling agents,” Starscream huffed. “You should know that.”

“That’s a ridiculous thing to say. You don’t love me at all,” Pharma retorted, “and you’re not staying in this house anymore!” Pharma pushed Starscream out the nearest door and shut it in his face.

“I don’t need you anyway!” Starscream shouted, to hide how upset he was, and flew off.

He flew on and on until he came to the Badlands outside Kaon and there he found abandoned Arachnicon webs and made them into a sort of cloak with a hood, covering him from helm to boot and hiding his beautiful wings. Then, he went on until he came to a vast arena.

“You need my talents,” Starscream said to the mech at the gate.

“No, we don’t,” said the mech, arms folded. “Beat it.”

“But all I ask is some energon and a place to recharge,” Starscream wheedled. “I ask no wages, and I’ll do any kind of work.” Until he could find someone to do it for him, or his talents were recognized, at least.

“Well, I guess Mixmaster could use an assistant, provided you don’t mind washing the pots and scrubbing his experiments off the walls,” the guard said reluctantly. “Pretty sure your troubles are over soon either way.” He opened the door. “Three levels down. Follow the angry shouts, not the pained yells – those’re Hook’s labs.”

Starscream disliked the idea of doing such low-level work, but he _was_ hungry and needed shelter while he planned his way back into Pharma’s good graces. So, he stayed and washed the pots, scrubbed the experiments off the walls, and did all the dirty work in Mixmaster’s kitchen. Because he didn’t give his name, he got called Webcloak.

One day came the news that there was to be a great rally a little way off, and all the workers could go. Webcloak said he was too tired to go, and who wanted to listen to some gladiator talk anyway, so he stayed at home. But, when everyone was gone, he took off his cloak, washed and polished himself to an elegant shine, and went to the rally. No one there was as well polished as he was, nor had such beautiful wings.

 _‘Naturally,’_ Starscream thought to himself, smugly.

The speaker was the undefeated gladiator Megatron, and the moment he saw Starscream, he couldn’t look at anyone else and became determined to speak to this new mech. But before he could get through the crowd, Starscream slipped away and went back to the worker’s dorm. When the other workers came back, he was pretending to recharge and wearing his cloak once again.

“You sure missed something last night, Webcloak!” the workers told him the next morning.

“Oh, what was that?” Starscream smirked under his hood, expecting to hear compliments and not to be disappointed.

“A handsome Seeker, polished like he was going to see the Prime. Megatron never took his optics off him!”

“I’d have liked to have seen that,” Starscream said, and no one could tell if he were sarcastic or not.

“There’s another rally this evening. Maybe he’ll be there.”

But that evening Webcloak once again said he was too tired to go. But once they were gone, he again took off his cloak, washed and polished himself, and went to the rally.

Megatron had been hoping to see him and never took his optics off him and managed to speak to him briefly. But before he could manage more than a greeting, a newsmech interrupted them, and Starscream slipped away and went home. When the other workers came back to the dorm, he pretended to be asleep with his cloak on.

The next morning the workers said, “Webcloak, you should’ve been there to see the Seeker. He was there again, all polished up, and Megatron never took his optics off him.”

“I’d have liked to have seen that,” Starscream said.

“There’s another rally this evening, and you’ve got to come to this one because the Seeker’s sure to be there.”

When the evening came, Webcloak said again that he was too tired to go and though the other workers tried until he lost his temper and snapped at them he wouldn’t go. But when they were gone, he took off his cloak, washed and polished himself, and went to the rally.

Megatron was delighted to see him. He never took his optics off him and, after his speech, would speak with no one but Starscream. When Starscream wouldn’t tell him his name, or where he came from, he gave him a set of brass knuckles and told him if he didn’t see him again he would have him found. But as soon as Starscream could manage it, he slipped off and went home, and when the workers came back to the dorm, he was pretending to recharge with his cloak on.

“Webcloak,” the workers said the next morning, “you didn’t come with us last night and lost your last chance to see the Seeker because there are no more rallies.”

“Too bad,” said Starscream. “I would have liked to have seen him.”

Megatron tried every way to find out where the Seeker had gone, but no matter where he went or who he threatened he never learned anything about him. Distracted by a desire for the Seeker, he took a nasty wound in the ring and, despite winning, was confined to bed.

“Make some light med-grade for Megatron,” Hook ordered Mixmaster. “He’s gotten himself hurt pining over that Seeker and can’t have regular energon for a bit.”

“I’m busy!” Mixmaster protested.

“Just do it!” Hook snapped and stalked off.

Mixmaster grumbled but was making the med-grade when Webcloak came in.

“What are you doing?” Webcloak asked, peering over Mixmaster’s shoulder.

“I’ve got to make some med-grade for Megatron,” Mixmaster said, “because he’s gotten himself hurt pining over that Seeker.”

That gave Webcloak an idea.

“Mixmaster, you’re so busy with so many important projects,” Webcloak coaxed. “This is far too simple to waste your time on. Let me do it.”

“I have orders from Hook.”

“What Hook doesn’t know can’t hurt anyone,” Webcloak wheedled, and Mixmaster relented.

Once Webcloak had made the med-grade, he slipped the brass knuckles into it on the sly before Mixmaster took it to Megatron. Megatron drank it and then saw the brass knuckles at the bottom.

“Bring me Mixmaster!” he commanded, and Mixmaster was brought up. “Who made this med-grade?”

“I – I did?” Mixmaster said, frightened.

Megatron glared at him. “Do not lie to me. Say who did it and you will not be harmed.”

“It was Webcloak!” Mixmaster yelped.

“Send Webcloak to me,” Megatron ordered, and Webcloak was sent. “Did you make my med-grade?” Megatron asked him.

“I did,” said Webcloak.

“Where did you get these brass knuckles?” Megatron wanted to know.

“From the mech who gave them to me,” Webcloak replied.

Megatron glowered at him. If his Seeker had been harmed… “And who are you, then?”

“I’ll show you.” Starscream threw aside his cloak, and there he was, gleaming, beautiful wings held high and proud.

Megatron got better very quickly.

Time passed, and Megatron made Starscream his second-in-command. There was to be a grand reception in celebration and everyone, far and wide, was asked. Starscream’s creator was asked, but Starscream had never told anybody who he was.

Before the reception, Starscream went to Mixmaster and ordered him to make every energon treat without any gelling agent.

“How do you think that’ll work?” Mixmaster demanded. “They’ll barely hold together!”

“Do as I command!” Starscream shrilled.

“Fine. On your head…” Mixmaster muttered but obeyed.

The day came, and Starscream was formally presented as Megatron’s second-in-command. After, the crowd sat down to refuel. When they tried to eat the treats each one wobbled or fell apart. Pharma, who had come late and not seen the ceremony, tried one, then another, and then another, and then began to keen.

“What in Unicron’s name is wrong with you?” Megatron wanted to know, annoyed at the distraction.

“My youngest creation,” Pharma told him sadly. “I asked him how much he loved me, and he said ‘as much as energon goodies love gelling agents’ and I kicked him out because I thought he was being a sarcastic brat. More than usual, I mean. Now I see he loved me best of all, but for all I know he’s dead!”

“No, Creator, he’s here!” Starscream announced, coming up to Pharma, who first smacked him upside the helm for making him worry, then hugged him.

Pharma moved his family into the arena with Starscream and Megatron and took the clinic over from Hook, and, if an insanely destructive planetary war hasn’t broken out, they’re living there still.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> Author Responses: This author replies to comments. If you don't want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with "whisper," and I will appreciate it but not respond.


End file.
